


5+1: Five times Steve hated his new strength… and one time he was glad to have it

by amerasu1013 (amerasu_1013)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4463735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amerasu_1013/pseuds/amerasu1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>If he could just talk to Bucky, about all that’s happened, what Steve has been through these last hours, that would make the pain in his chest go away. If he could just tell him, about the serum and how much it had hurt. About how the first rush of exhilaration of being strong and healthy had turned to ash when this, this new Steve, despite the new muscles and the speed and the power, still wasn’t enough to keep Erskine alive.</em><br/>--------------<br/>Five times Steve hated his new strength and one time he was glad to have it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5+1: Five times Steve hated his new strength… and one time he was glad to have it

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I was thinking about how most/basically all of my last fics were AUs and how I wanted to get a little closer to canon again. Of course what I'd write would be a total angst fest, but yeeeah. That's how I roll, apparently.  
> 2\. Inspiration for this fic struck in a conversation between [zilldk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zilldk) and myself about... I don't even remember properly, something about Steve hating doors and randomly attacking them? Which spawned the thought that he would probably have broken quite a few doors right after getting the serum because he wasn't yet used to his new strength. Which in turn somehow lead to this fic.  
> 3\. Three cheers for zilldk for being an awesome beta and just awesome in general.  
> 4\. As usual: not mine, yaddayadda.  
> 5\. I think I haven't mentioned in a while: English is not my native tongue.
> 
> +1 (hehe): The slash is barely there, but it's there. And I'm serious. ANGST WARNING.

**_One_ **

It’s barely been a day since… the serum and all it entails, since Erskine and Hydra and everything that happened. Tomorrow he’ll find out exactly what Brand meant when he had been talking about Steve doing his part, but tonight he just wants to sleep. So much has happened. A tumbling rush of emotions rolls through him – confusion and fear and regret and sorrow, all he wants is to curl up on his bed for a while, shut the door and just _hide_. He wishes Bucky was here, desperately so. If he could just talk to him, about all that’s happened, what Steve has been through these last hours, that would make the pain in his chest go away. If he could just tell him, about the serum and how much it had hurt. About how the first rush of exhilaration of being _strong_ and _healthy_ had turned to ash when this, this new Steve, despite the new muscles and the speed and the power, still wasn’t enough to keep Erskine alive.

But Bucky is far away, an entire ocean, a continent between them and Steve is alone. He sits on the bed, staring at his hands. They are different, bigger and wider, they don’t look like his hands at all. His arms bulge with muscles, his chest, his entire frame has… expanded. He barely recognizes himself in the mirror, a stranger is looking back at him. A tall, good-looking, _strong_ stranger. But inside, down in his core, he still feels skinny and weak.

Steve shudders once, then again when he curls up on his bed and his body feels _off_ , like it doesn’t belong to him anymore. He’d thought he _wanted_ this, he _still_ wants this, but right now he regrets accepting the procedure. He’s tall and healthy, yes. But this new Steve, this new strength still wasn’t enough. Bucky is far away, Erskine is dead and Steve is useless. He hates his new power in this moment, would gladly go back to the way he was before.

Maybe then Abraham would still be alive.

 

**_Two_ **

Getting used to his new body is… difficult at the best of times. The first few weeks Steve is constantly banging his head on doorways that are suddenly not high enough; he keeps forgetting to duck. When he walks around a corner too fast he sometimes bounces off the wall because his center of gravity has shifted; yesterday he accidentally body-checked a passing man into a cabinet because he turned around too swiftly. Not to mention all the glasses he’s been breaking when he forgets to adjust the force of his grip.

It’s difficult and painfully awkward; his body feels uncomfortable, Steve’s own skin feels like a suit that doesn’t fit. It’s not _him_. Others look at him with awe and admiration in their gaze when they see his new body, but sometimes, all Steve wants to do is scream.

**_Three_ **

It gets better, he gets used to it. At least Steve thinks so, until they start practicing the dancing routines for their tour.

He’s toldto lift up one of the girls, and she didn’t care that Steve couldn’t manage to suppress a blush when he had to put his hands on her waist. She didn’t giggle like the other dancers did, just gave him a sweet little smile and told him it's okay to be nervous. Steve doesn’t quite know what happened, maybe he lifted her too quickly or too high – but she doesn’t land properly, twisting her ankle beneath her.

The other dancers, more than a few of the them openly glaring at Steve, immediately surround the crying girl and try to comfort her. Steve tries to tell her how sorry he is but she can’t hear him through her pained sobs.

She was so nice, this girl with her sweet little smile, and now she’s hurt. And it’s Steve’s fault.

 

**_Four_ **

Explosions are still ringing in the distance when they finally stop running for a brief while, trying to catch their breath. Bucky is panting, right arm wrapped tightly around his ribcage, bruises littering his chest in the V of his half-open shirt. He’s dirty and bloody, covered in filth, sweat and a dozen other stains Steve doesn’t want to think about, but he’s never looked more perfect. Beautiful.

They have to find the other survivors, see who made it out of Hydra’s compound alive. They have to get back to camp and to safety, they have to figure out which way to go, find food and water and weapons. There is so much they have to do – but right now, there is only one thing Steve really _needs_.

Bucky is safe, Bucky is whole and Steve wraps his arms around him, needs to feel him alive and warm and breathing. He hugs him tighter, burying his nose in Bucky’s hair, hiding his tears in the dirty brown strands. Shit, he almost lost him...

Bucky gasps and shoves at him weakly, a choked-off groan forced from his throat. Steve pulls back immediately – is he hurt? Is there a wound he didn’t tell Steve about?! – and finds his friend’s eyes glazed over in agony. Bucky manages a weak chuckle and says that those ribs are definitely broken now. He’s smiling slightly, trying to make light of it, but pain clouds Bucky’s face when he tells him Steve’s new muscles will take some time getting used to.

The next morning new bruises have bloomed on Bucky’s chest and he can barely walk straight. Tight bandages around his ribs seem to make it better, but Steve doesn’t dare touch Bucky at all for a very long time.

**_Five_ **

Bucky falls –

Steve can’t save him.

 

**_And One_ **

The building is crumbling, coming down around them. The ceiling cracks, parts of it crash to the ground, spraying dust and concrete everywhere. Thin cracks appear in the walls, they widen and spread outwards like a deadly spider web. Fire rages behind them, its hot tongues almost licking at Steve’s back. Here, in the corner of the room, part of the floor has disappeared, opening up to a ten-storey drop. Here, Bucky clings to a steel girder with his metal hand, dangling above the hole, the gaping maw trying to pull Bucky down into the abyss.

Steve is running towards him, shouting Bucky’s name. The girder shakes, Bucky clings harder, his broken right arm dangling uselessly at his side. Their eyes meet just as, with a sickening groan of tortured metal, the girder breaks.

Bucky falls –

Steve, lying on his stomach at the edge of the hole, has a hand wrapped around a metal wrist.

And, his muscles straining with effort, pulls him back up.

 

**THE END**


End file.
